


Unfortunate Antics Ensue

by TheXGrayXLady



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bad Decisions, Evil, Gen, Humiliation, Humor, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheXGrayXLady/pseuds/TheXGrayXLady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack does various things. Unfortunate Antics Ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Game Night

It was at times like these when he began to seriously consider taking a few mental health days. As if keeping straight A's at school and planning to take over the world wasn't stressful enough. Now he'd gotten himself into really deep shit. All because he had one stupid idea.

At the time, it was brilliant. Attempt some of that "power of friendship" stuff that the Xiaolin Losers were always ranting about. Of course, due to numerous backstabbing and other various nefarious acts that came with the villain territory, the Heylins didn't exactly have that buddy-buddy relationship. Sure, they could work together, but Jack figured that a little extra bit of closeness couldn't hurt. Maybe get the whole teamwork edge.

That was where he got the idea for Game Night. Every other week a bunch of them would get together and play board games. So far, it hadn't been going well.

After a quick pit stop in the kitchen for a ginger ale, he walked up to the living room. He flipped the lid on the old wooden trunk his family used to store games and bright happy colors looked back up at him while he considered which to bring today.

Definitely not Candy Land. He'd brought that once and been ridiculed for it. Mercilessly ridiculed as only fifteen hundred year old evildoers, sadistic robots, a wannabe ninja, a Russian, and a crazy cat lady could.

Scrabble was out too. Tubbimura was the spelling police. Vlad kept pointing out the anatomical inaccuracies in Operation in disgusting detail, so that wasn't coming with him. Maybe Chinese Checkers...no. The immortals insisted that they play by fifteen-hundred year old rules, which included bamboo splinters under the nails for the losers. Certainly not Twister, only Vlad and Katnappe would be happy to repeat that after the last time.

Nobody got the point of Sorry and only Katnappe understood the point of Mousetrap, so those weren't it. Robo-Jack and Chameleon-bot cheated at cards, leaving everybody hating him for installing X-ray vision. Wuya was a little too good at Clue for her own good, only he liked Ticket to Ride, and Chase always -always- won Risk. It didn't matter if the man had been holed up in frickin' Australia for the entire game, he would find a way to win.

He took a sip of his ginger ale and set the rejected games aside. There were three games remaining in the box. Apples to Apples, Dirty Minds, and Monopoly. Nobody in this group could win Dirty Minds if their life depended on it. Apples to Apples would get dirty fast. Very fast. So that was another no go. He smiled as he pulled the dusty Monopoly box out of the chest and replaced the other games.

He fondly remembered playing Monopoly with his grandmother years ago -he was always the dog. This could be the game that saved his idea. Nobody could possibly be mad while playing Monopoly.


	2. Ice Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack finally takes the monks out to ice cream. Unfortunate Antics Ensue.

This was yet another low point in the life of Jack Spicer, Evil Boy Genius. Just one week away from the infamous "Park Place Debacle" and he'd already gotten himself back into deep shit. Not that he had gotten out of deep shit in the first place, but he was working hard at potentially putting himself in a position where he could maybe maneuver himself to the point where there was a possibility of getting slightly out of said deep shit.

And now that chance had gone out the window with this wonderful trip. A new Wu had gone active and he'd gone to retrieve it. First off, he'd had to drive Wuya and Chase there. This wouldn't have been so bad normally, but the sorcerer was a bit miffed about his game pieced induced haircut. If miffed was defined as murderous rage not normally associated with the normally disturbingly calm immortal. Wuya hated the batbot anyway and was especially furious with him because the "Park Place Debacle" gave Ashley the perfect opportunity to steal the Golden Tiger Claws, which was the reason why he was driving them in the first place.

Then at the showdown Vlad had kicked his ass for breaking up him and Ashley. So both he and the Xiaolin Losers had lost one of the most useless Wu ever to a crazy Russian. If Vlad ever needed to repair an exactly two cubic centimeter hole in the toe of a slipper, he was all set. After that, the cue ball decided that it was time for him to make good on his promise to buy them Mondays. And there was no convincing Omi that now might not be the best time for Mondays.

And that was why he was currently standing in line at an ice cream place in his town after spending an hour dealing with Chase, the old hag, Omi, and the rest of the Xiaolin Losers in his poor batbot. The cashier gave him a distainful look as he slowly walked up to the counter. They were obviously displeased by the people he brought with him.

"Awkward family reunion," he said by way of explanation for the slew of strange people. Probably not the best explanation seeing as only Wuya really even sort of looked like she could be related to him. And he mildly resented the notion that all red-heads were related.

"I am Omi, great Xiaolin Dragon of the Water. I am on a quest for a Monday," the cheese ball said, bounding up to the counter. The girl behind the counter gave him a "you've got to be kidding me" type look. Jack gave her a hushed, hasty explanation about a socially awkward cousin from China and she was more or less satisfied.

So, after Omi bounced off to a table, ice cream in hand, the rest of the group ordered. Chase and Wuya were initially against this whole thing, but were now seated at a back table, a bowl of organic, soy, green tea ice cream and a crossword between them. Clay ordered one of those flavors that seemed to be on the menu specifically to make people go "Why the hell would someone ever order that?" Much to Kimiko's displeasure (and the near melting of raspberry sorbet), Raimundo charmed an extra scoop of mint chocolate chip out of their server. And of course they'd had to get something ridiculously chocolaty for their "pet gecko."

"You guys still have that honey-ginger flavor?" His favorite even above banana, but they didn't always have it and you had to really be willing to ask.

"No sorry, everybody just loves that flavor don't they?" she said. "Can I get you something else?"

"Banana?" he said.

"I'm so sorry, we just ran out," she said, a cheery smile still plastered on her face. This was what he got for coming late in the day.

"How about purple cow?" It was good enough.

"Today's just not your day is it?"

"You have no idea," he said, remembering how Le Mime showed up for the first time in three years to communicate his displeasure in not being invited to game night the day they played charades. "Do you have mocha chip?"

"Yep. Coming right up," she said. She returned shortly with the ice cream and he paid up for the group. He was going to need an advance on his allowance. Or get a real job.

So, he went and sat with the Xiaolin Losers –just because they were enemies it didn't mean they couldn't get along-, chatted, joked around, and shared mutual complaints about Monopoly. Apparently Raimundo cheated, Omi actually tried to know the rules, Clay knew how it was going to end so he refused to start, and Kimiko was absolutely ruthless. How his favorite game could cause such misery was beyond him.

Omi had started a "who can balance a spoon on their nose for the longest" contest, drawing eye rolls from Kimiko and a "Those goddamn rotten teenagers!" glare from the cashier. Just as he was about to totally on purpose let the spoon slide from his nose, a familiar noise made him jump, almost literally, out of his steel toed boots.

"Jack!" an overly loud voice screamed in his ear. "You were supposed to play tea party with me!" He'd forgotten about that, but how the hell Megan found him was another matter entirely. She was theoretically stuck at home being babysat by the Jackbots.

"Well…you see…erm…there was…meteor…unicorns…and…yogurt…forty-two…" he was basically spewing out gibberish to keep himself from being chewed out as only an eight year old could.

"What Jack means to say is that we adolescent-slept him in a most dishonorable manner," Omi said. He shot the cheese ball a grateful look. He'd just saved him a lot of thinking.

"Kidnapped," Raimundo said, looking beyond frustrated with the younger boy's vocabulary.

"No. You see Raimundo, Jack is not a child, so we cannot call him a kid," Omi explained. The ensuing argument between the stubborn Dragons drew a rather irate stare from the server. Of the "If they get any louder I'm going to kick them out" variety. He took that as his cue to leave.

"Alright Megan, I'm going to make my escape now. Then we will play tea party all day," he said, standing up and making a beeline for the door only to be stopped by Chase.

"Keys," he said, holding out an expectant hand. Crap. He was supposed to give them a ride home. He respected Chase and revered his evil hero above all else, but he drew the line at his car.

"This is a bit awkward, but I kinda sorta can't drive you guys home today," he said, fiddling with his goggles. "And erm…the ignition requires fingerprint recognition to start."

"Fine then. We will accompany you until you can bring us back to my citadel," he said, his tone was perfectly calm and rational, almost friendly, but Jack could tell there was no arguing.

"Yay! More guests for tea!" Megan said, bouncing up and down and clapping her hands as the four of them left the shop. "But you need to ditch your ugly clothes. I think Aunty Susan has a pink dress that would go great with your eyes."

Chase cringed, Wuya snickered, Jack gulped, but none of them argued. It would have been futile. She would have kicked their asses. A tea party with Chase in a dress that even his mom wouldn't be caught dead in –Jack knew which dress she was talking about, she always made one of the Jackbots wear the frilly thing- could not be a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor boy. Poor, poor boy. I honestly ran out of ideas in the end. If anyone wants to write up what happened on that one last game night or what happens at the tea party, be my guest, but I'm more or less done with it. I'm happy the way it turned out and as much as I enjoyed it, I'm going to admit that I'm done. Leave me a review please. There will be honey-ginger ice cream if you do. (best flavor in the world BTW)


	3. Microwaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wuya Tries to use modern technology. Unfortunate Antics Ensue.

The box spat blue sparks and trembled on the marble. Thick black smoke oozed from the front and quickly filled the air. A beeping noise came from somewhere behind her, but it didn't hold her attention. She could feel the heat radiating from the box, smell the singed hair where she hadn't dodged a spark fast enough, hear the whirr of the box.

She set out immediately from the room, careful to use a little of her remaining magic to lock the door behind her. If she was lucky, she could keep this under wraps. There had to be a way to fix the demon box. The library probably had something on demon box repair. It was some time around eleven in the morning, so Chase was probably training with the cats so it would be safe to do some research without him finding out.

She darted to the massive oak doors and slipped in. She went straight to the spirit section for information on demon boxes. She'd spent so much time in that puzzle box she was behind on more modern methods of spirit capture. She knew of a couple varieties of imps that would shoot sparks if you needed to use them to heat a potion. Of course, you captured those in a lamp or a tinderbox. Something that would be useful. Why you would ever put one in a box was beyond her.

She'd seen Chase and the cats using it often enough to know what it was used for though. She'd even seen Jack using a similar device to heat what he called "the food of the gods." AKA nasty instant ramen that wouldn't pass for god food in any pantheon that she'd known over the course of her lifetime. Perhaps the standards for immortals passing themselves off to humans as gods had fallen over the course of her fifteen hundred year imprisonment.

She found a book on electrical spirits. She figured that she should probably know more seeing as she spent a year and a half with Mr. Modern Technology, but all she really learned from watching Jack was that he could blow up kitchen appliances in less than five minutes and that his mother was typically less than pleased about that. She did know that it was generally a good idea to ask Jack to help, but she didn't have time for that.

On page forty-two she found an imp that would cause similar reactions to what she saw in the demon box. Proper expulsion charms wouldn't require anything out of the ordinary given the odd assortment of potion ingredients in the citadel. A few minutes and a trip to a storeroom later, she was back in the kitchen with a unicorn horn, stardust, eye of newt, wool of dog, and some monkshood to dispel it. Oddly enough, the box was no longer shooting sparks by the time she returned.

"What in the name of all that is unholy did you do to my microwave?" a newly blond dragon warlord said, stepping out of the shadows. Between the game piece induced haircut and the "your hair clashes with the dress" induced dye job he looked like a Side Avenue Guy. Thankfully, it was cheap dye so it was washing out. Unfortunately, it was cheap dye and was washing out in awkward streaks.

"I needed to heat a potion to make it work properly. Your demon box attacked me," she explained. It wasn't like she was doing something stupid like trying to make a robot out of a blender.

"You put a spoon in the microwave. How long did you live with Spicer? He practically lives off that god awful ramen. You should have something as simple as a microwave figured out," he said, holding the bowl filled with sizzling neon blue liquid out to her. The spoon she used to stir it crackled with electricity. At least the potion was still useable.

"I have fifteen hundred years' worth of technology to catch up on. Sorry if this particular device missed my attention," she said. It wasn't like she missed something important like cars, cellphones, electricity, tesla coils, the periodic table, the UN, coffee makers, or online shopping. His reputation with technology wasn't exactly flawless either. He'd learned to drive in a three wheeled car some time in the late eighteen hundreds. He'd never bothered to keep up to date.

He didn't respond, just surveyed the wreckage. He tapped his fingers on the edge of the bowl, considering his options. She really hoped he wouldn't throw her out over a micro-thingy. Her loyalty was tenuous enough as it was what with him taking her powers and preventing her from doing anything to remedy that. If she was out over this unfortunate events would ensue.

"It clashed with the décor anyway," she offered. It did. And that counter top was cracked too, but she got the feeling that it might possibly be a bad idea to bring that up now.

"I've got bigger things to worry about than this," he said after a bit of awkward silence. "Jack is inviting us to a Karaoke Night. While it is always worthwhile to watch Spicer make a fool of himself, he's also inviting Hannibal and that intolerable crazy cat lady." Like he wasn't a crazy cat man himself.

"Good to know we're avoiding this," she said, taking the potion from him, their fingers lingering together on the bowl for a few seconds longer than was really necessary. "It will give me time to learn how to properly use this micro-thingy."

"Who said anything about avoiding it?" he said. "If the Side Avenue Guy look fits, I'm going to use it to the best of my ability to show up that has-been bean." This was going to end so well. Although she supposed that she had nothing better to do this week.


	4. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack does karaoke. Unfortunate Antics Ensue.

Just when he thought he was going to do something to put himself in a position to think about maybe possibly getting to the point where he could do something to maneuver himself to a place where he could be begin to get out of the deep shit started by the Park Place Debacle and continued by the Tea Party Incident, this just had to happen. Admittedly, it was kind of his fault for having a bunch of villains over for a karaoke party. But it wasn't his idea for them to go about acting like a bunch of stupid teenagers. The fact that most of them were, in fact, teenager didn't make any difference. They should have known better.

First off, his lab was sort of trashed. Beakers and soldering irons lay everywhere as a result of Tubbimura trying to breakdance. He had already made a mental note never to allow that again. Ever. For any reason. Then his speakers were ruined from a fight between Vlad's pet honey badger Demitri and Ashley's kittens. He was reasonably these ones were Boots and Mittens. Those cats were nasty.

The upstairs was worse though. A couple of the villains had decided to raid his refrigerator and one of them, he was pretty sure it was Robo-Jack, spilled both gingerale and banana pudding on his mum's nice rug. Needless to say, Susan Spicer would not be happy with him. More over having what she called "a wild, unsupervised, teenage party without permission" than the rug stain. Even though three of the villains were decidedly much older than teenagers.

It wasn't like it was his fault that Chase and Hannibal had used his living room for a sparring ground until said incident with Demitri, Boots, and Mittens. He'd given them fair warning that the other would be there.

He continued putting cups and napkins into a trash bag, slightly exasperated that nine people could make such a mess. He figured that it was the second law of thermodynamics in action. The universe tends toward chaos.

The karaoke part hadn't even gone that badly. Most of them looked like they were having fun for that bit. Chase had done "Sexyback" a little too well for someone who claimed that their most modern musical tastes were The Beatles. Wuya had done a surprisingly good job on "All That Jazz." Ashley went with "Stray Cat Strut." Oddly enough, Vlad sang "In the Dark of the Night," leading to him and Ashley having a giggle fit later over the implication that the Russian had watched a children's movie often enough for him to have memorized it, although it was rather terrifying to watch. Naturally, Robo-Jack had gone with "Still Alive" and was joined by a chorus of Jackbots. Le Mime had mimed a version of some French song. Whatever it was, the collective Heylin audience was in tears by the end of it. Hannibal did "Bad" in a manner that was fairly self-explanatory. Tubbimura had foregone singing and stuck to making sarcastic comments about everybody else. Himself, he'd indulged himself a bit and went with "Call Me Maybe."

Nobody had really gotten upset until Demitri twisted himself off his leash. At which point Mittens and Boots decided that he looked rather like an oversized and rather tasty mouse. Pulling them apart took some substantial effort on their part. By the end of it, the living room was short a couple of vases and his lab was missing a test tube or seven. Picking up broken porcelain and glass was not pleasant. Plus, finding replacement vases at midnight was a bitch.

It was some time around noon when he finally finished cleaning the house. He was relieved too. His mum and dad would be back from their business trip soon and if there was one thing Susan and Leonard Spicer would be upset about, it would be a house wrecked by a bunch of crazies in costumes at a non-approved party.

Just as he was about to settle down on his couch for a marathon of reruns of 30 Rock, the door swung open and his parents stepped into the foyer. Where he had neglected to remove the flowers trampled by Demitri, the soda stained rug, and the remnants of one of the broken vases.

"Oh shit," he said, jumping off the sofa and in a display of surprising agility ran from the house. He figured a couple of hours down town and a honey ginger ice cream would be best for him if this was going to properly simmer down. He could blame it on a robot malfunction while he was gone. At least he knew that for a few hours the people who could get him out of deep shit were happy with him.


	5. Knitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack wins Shen Gong Wu. Unfortunate Antics Ensue

"I think I did pretty well if I do say so myself," Jack said, smirking and holding the new Wu under his arm as Wuya fiddled with the combination. "And I do."

"You slipped and fell down the mountain and Omi ran back to check on you, tripped and fell the rest of the way down, bringing Katnappe down with him. If that's how you define doing pretty well we need to have a chat," she said, adjusting her emerald green knit scarf. The door swung open and they walked in. They started towards the storeroom for the Wu, but Jack stopped when the oddest sight met his eyes.

Chase Young, his evil genius hero, an evil badass's evil badass, was sitting on a stone bench by one of the waterfalls, knitting furiously. He glanced up at them momentarily before resuming knitting whatever he was knitting. Jack bit his lip and walked on a little faster.

"Did you just see that?" he asked Wuya when he was pretty sure they were out of earshot.

"Did you ever wonder why there is a massive basket of yarn in the middle of the citadel?" she responded. He actually had, but figured that it was to keep the cats amused. At least now he had an explanation for why all of the cats had a constant supply of warm winter socks.

He shrugged and they deposited the Wu in the storeroom. Wuya went off to wherever it was she was going to go to do whatever it was she was going to do. He took the Monkey Staff back, his price for giving them the other Wu.

"Now Spicer," a voice said. He whipped around to find himself face to face with Chase Young. He looked dangerously calm and almost a little amused. Jack screamed in a very manly fashion like a man and not at all like a little girl. Chase laughed slightly. "Please Spicer. If I wanted to hurt you, you would be hurt." All of this said in a manner than plainly communicated, "You saw nothing and if you tell someone that you think you saw something, you will be taken out behind the chemical sheds and shot." Perhaps not in those exact words, Chase would probably pick something unpleasant involving really thin bamboo splinters and tigers, but the general gist of it was there.

"Well then erm…what do you want?" he asked, trying to get over his near heart attack.

"Nothing. Happy Holidays Spicer," he said, his point having been communicated.

Jack practically ran from the lair, not really afraid of Chase, but quite terrified by the prospect of showing up late to Christmas shopping with his mother. Breaking a yearly tradition might just be punishable with spending time at the spa in ritualized torture disguised as mother-son bonding.

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

"How is it that six people can make such a mess?" he asked himself as he cleaned up wrapping paper on Christmas morning. Megan was probably the culprit, but his dad and Uncle John were like little kids when it came to unwrapping presents. He didn't feel like watching the same holiday movies that they watched every year, so he figured he's save himself some time and clean up while they weren't watching Elf.

He picked up a sheet of red paper and shoved it into the trash bag. He almost missed it, but underneath was a box wrapped in jade green paper with his name on it. His family had finished with the gift giving and were now mostly watching Frosty in the other room. The monks had sent him a gift, but the combination first aid kit and emergency stock of banana pudding and ginger ale was wrapped in red and gold. He was almost suspicious of the package.

He carefully unwrapped the box, putting the paper straight into the bag. It was an ordinary box, just plain thin cardboard. Inside however, there was a red and black knit beanie and a note in neat, but workmanlike handwriting. Take note, this does not mean that I approve of you. Rather I've gotten tired of you griping about being cold.

He put the hat on, it fit rather well. He was going to check it in the mirror in a few minutes. Snowboarding in Aspen this year was going to kick ass. Provided he didn't die from some hex embedded in the beanie beforehand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not actually Christmas. Whatevs kiddos.


	6. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack organizes Villain Movie Night. Unfortunate Antics Ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to first point out that I am not even remotely sorry about anything I just wrote. Not in the least bit. It's just way too much fun to make Jack the Universe's bitch. That being said, I would like to apologize to those reading Across the Universe as I was supposed to have the next chapter of that up, however Vanilla Instant Coffee betrayed me this week and thusly, my laptop is being repaired, so I'm writing this from my family's desktop where I have none of my stuff backed up. This, thankfully, is a little plot bunny that just happened to cross my mind whilst I lounged at the beach the other day so it never went to laptop land. Anywho, now that the overly long explanation for things not being on schedule is done, allons-y!

Things had officially crossed the line. Not in the traditional Heylin sense of destruction, murder, and poor fashion choices (such as Ashley's new Nicki Minaj hair do), but there was line crossing nonetheless. Line crossing that conveniently took place just when things were looking up for the Jack Man. You could mock his games, you could make him sip imaginary tea, you could wreck his home, make him deny that you knit, but you did not get him kicked out of a movie theatre.

Seriously, it had finally been enough time since the Honey Badger Caper that he could begin to think about possibly considering maneuvering himself into a position where it would be feasible to mull over becoming potentially able to toss around the idea of musing about maybe perhaps flirting with the concept of getting back in the rest of the Heylin's good graces, but then he just had to invite them to a movie.

Not just any movie, but one Omi had actually mentioned Kimiko dragged them to as a highly successful "Xiaolin Team Bonding" exercise. Stupid team bonding and cool movies with their getting him back into deep shit and ruining his hard work. Although in retrospect, perhaps he shouldn't have picked that particular film. The Avengers just looked so cool though and he'd really wanted to see it and hadn't yet because one of his bots accidentally washed his opening night tickets.

Chase was pissed off before they'd even entered the theatre. Unfortunately for him, his hair had finally grown back in after the Park Place Debacle and the Tea Party incident. His thick, luxurious hair, combined with his penchant for dressing in green, black, and gold earned him a series of tacklehugs from various fangirls hanging around the lobby. Needless to say, he was a mite peeved by these events. Wuya, on the other hand, thought it hilarious. Or at least Jack thought she did. He was reasonably sure he caught her giving an incredibly dirty look to one particularly touchy fangirl.

And things only went down hill from there. Le Mime and Wuya were almost kicked out before they even got in due to various shenanigans. Namely, he was trying to sneak in snails for a snack and she wasn't wearing shoes. That set Jack back another fifteen dollars right there because the little old lady taking tickets was a serious badass and there was no way Le Mime would set foot in the theatre without a snack and he had to get Wuya a pair of shitty flip-flops from the Five Below across the mall, which she had not stopped complaining about. Something about the hideous shade of bubble gum pink and the fact that they were shoes.

Then Ashley spent the first half hour in the theatre gushing about how all the guys in the movie were, "So hot." Everybody kept hissing at her to shut up, but that didn't happen until the scene with the punching bags when the entire population of the theatre went so silent you could have heard a feather drop if not for the sounds of the movie.

Then Chase and Wuya got to criticizing Loki because apparently he had a stupid plan and even stupider hair. Chase even drew reprimands from the usher from his rather loud and angry comments as to the stupidity of the costuming designer because according to him, "That armor is ridiculous. Why would they think that is acceptable?" Jack would have retorted with a, "Pot, meet Kettle. You're both black," but he was already having a difficult enough time enjoying himself and he got the feeling that the evil overlord hadn't quite calmed down from the last tacklehug.

Le Mime kept miming death threats at the popcorn because it was a disgusting snack that didn't even come close to measuring up to the heavenly delicacy that was snails. Some of them were way more violent than Jack thought crappy movie theatre popcorn warranted. He told the guy to stop as he was attracting funny looks from the neighboring moviegoers and the ushers.

And then it turned out that Ashley smuggled her kittens into the theatre and they'd of course wriggled their way out of her bag, so he had to crawl around on the theatre floor to help her look for them while stuff blew up. When they'd finally wrangled Mittens and Boots, he'd decided that perhaps it would be best for him to find another seat so he could actually try and watch the movie. That idea backfired spectacularly.

The only remaining open seat was in front of a small child who was obviously in the care of an older sibling or something because they kept kicking his chair and whining about how he wanted to see something else and how the guy next to him smelled like cheese and his parents had certainly never let him do that. He tried to tolerate it, he really did, but that last showdown had done a number on his back and repeated blunt impact was not what he needed right now. He tried not to react to the little bugger, but he was not having a good day and his poor back really couldn't take it.

He vaguely recalled standing up, straightening his trench coat, and turning to face the little brat, but after that, things got sort of fuzzy. The next thing he knew, he was standing outside the mall with a security guard lecturing him, citing numerous complaints about his disruptive behavior throughout the film.

He didn't even have the sanity to react to that. He just walked back to his car, sat on the hood because he'd somehow managed to lock his keys inside, and pondered how exactly he got the blame for, "threatening gestures towards concessions" and "rude comments about L'Oreal's effectiveness at removing hair grease."

By the time bot 413 arrived with his spare set of keys, he'd come to the conclusion that he'd stop taking advice from Omi. Next time he decided to do team bonding, they were going to go extreme ironing, because according to the cheese ball, that was a terrible idea, hated by everyone involved. Yes, extreme ironing. What could go wrong with that?


	7. Halloween Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack tries to be social. Unfortunate Antics Ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys...I'm vaguely nice to Jack this time around. Not really, but at least vaguely. Just as a heads up, it's sort of obvious in this fic that my senioritis is setting in. I've realized that I both hate more people than I thought I did and I don't hate more people than I thought I did, if that makes sense. Anywho, some parts of this feel a bit out of character, and it's not particularly funny, some of the jokes you'll only get if you're a real 90's kid, and just as a warning there are passing references to alcohol. Also as a heads up, I decided that Jack was dressed as Tony Stark, only I couldn't find a good place to fit it in so yeah.

He would never be entirely clear on what happened. All he knew was that things had finally gone too far, he'd snapped, and now he was sitting in the koi pond with his invitation to extreme ironing thrown back in his face while the sounds of the Halloween party blared in the distance.

Like most things in his life, this started out normally. He figured that since it was his senior year, he might as well make the most of it and try to be social. Of course, everybody still thought of him as the weird goth, taxidermy nerd so what better way to be social than via a Halloween party. He'd invited a few people he knew in his metal shop and AP calc classes and to sweeten the deal, he made sure to mention that his parents were out of town for a convention and had a rather impressive liquor cabinet, then to be completely sure, he'd invited Ashley, she let everyone else know, and things had snowballed from there just as planned. Within a week, most of the senior class of Alexander Gettler Memorial High School was planning for the Halloween party of the century.

He'd even invited the Xiaolin Losers, albeit begrudgingly, after Omi found out during a showdown and he couldn't say no to the kid.

Still, things were going to be, in the words of philosopher Barnabas Stinson, Legendary. Normally, the Spicer household was all decked out for Halloween, but this year he'd outdone even himself. There were fake cobwebs hanging from every door and window, tombstones with robotic zombie arms crawling out from the ground all over the yard, a state of the art stereo blasting only the best of the horrifying hits (among them Werewolves of London, Thriller, and Call Me Maybe), a fog machine coating the floor in a sea of gray waves, a set of black and blue lights to give the manor a spooky air, and his piece de resistance, furbies set where people would least expect them.

"Way to go loser," Ashley said, sauntering up to him, adjusting the mask on her Catwoman costume. "This doesn't completely blow." That was what she said anyway. When he saw her earlier, Kitty Litter had been positively ecstatic.

At first, he'd been nervous, he wasn't great at the whole socialization thing, but from what people were telling him, Rich, Goth Kid Halloween was a success. Plus, just from chilling with the people that showed make him rethink his opinions on the majority of his senior class. There were still a few that had only showed for the booze or he would just flat out would never like, but he was sure that if his schedule of evil and school work allowed, he would make an effort to be more social in the future.

Even the monks looked to be enjoying themselves. They were initially wary of the reluctant invitation, but eventually accepted his temporary truce. They'd shown up late, but fashionably so with Raimundo dressed as Captain Jack Harkness, Omi as Aang, Clay as Indiana Jones, and Kimiko as the Black Widow. He'd lost track of the Xiaolin Lovebirds a while back, quite frankly he didn't care to know where they went, Tex'd joined a group bobbing for apples, and the Cheeseball was somehow in the middle of a group of cheerleaders with all of them gushing about how cute he was. He'd kill to know how the kid'd managed that one.

Still, as with everything in his life, just when things seemed to be getting better, everything went to hell in a handbasket.

"Dude, you didn't tell me there were college people coming," said a guy wearing a bedsheet toga, Jack was reasonably sure his name was Steve. That couldn't be right, no college student worth their acceptance letter would consider this party for half a second. Plus, the nearest school was at least an hour's drive away. This couldn't end well.

"What?" he asked, still not sure if he could believe it.

"Yeah, some guy and this chick showed up," he said. "The guy's sort of an asshat. Liz just complimented his Loki costume and..." He desperately hoped that it was some college asshole party crasher in a Loki costume.

"Fuck," he said, bolting out into the foyer only to see not a pair of college assholes, but Chase and Wuya. Chase was standing in the corner, muttering about how he washed his hair thank you very much, the witch had a firm grip on his arm, holding him back from irrational villainous costuming related shenanigans. "Fuck."

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" he asked, trying to keep a happy front despite scanning the party around of them. Most people were giving the immortals some serious death glares and it would not due to have the Xiaolin Losers find out about this and make a scene.

"As loath as I am to admit it," Chase said through clenched teeth. "We have need of your unique mechanical abilities."

This was a particularly tricky moment for Jack as he was torn between gaining the approval of his evil idol and relishing in a rare moment of social acceptance. He was still planning that extreme ironing outing and knew that the other villain's attendance was dependant on Chase and Wuya's so if he didn't want to be ironing his trench coat on top of a mountain by himself, he would have to go along with them. However, he'd gotten a few invites to hang out with people and he didn't want to jeopardize that by leaving to fix, build, mechanicalize, whatever, something these two cooked up. Fortunately, or not so fortunately, he didn't need to make a decision.

"Do you see..." Wuya said, pointing to a nearby vase where a furby perched, it's glassy eyes staring at the trio.

"They were sealed..." he continued.

"It can't be..."

"Spicer," he said, sounding dangerously calm. "Where did you get this?"

"Walmart. Freaky right?" he said, allowing himself to sound just a little proud that he'd freaked out even an evil badass's evil badass.

"You know not what you do," Wuya hissed.

"Chillax you old hag," he said, looking around to make sure things hadn't gotten out of hand. "It's just a toy."

"This," Chase said, reaching out and removing the furby from it's vase. "Is not a toy. Do you..."

"Hahahahahhahahahahhaahwhahah ahwhwhhamahwahaha." He had to give the fuzzball credit, it did a spot on impersonation of his laugh. Not for long though. The next thing he knew, the thing was whizzing out the door and a car alarm was singing its song into the night. Unfortunately for him, he knew that car alarm. Only he was cool enough to make his car alarm the Batman theme.

He rushed out the door, ignoring the other villains, to check on his baby, only to find the glossy black paint and fine tuned metal of the hood buckled in a furby related crater. Without second thought, he turned around, smoothed his shirt, and marched back into the house. Things had gone too far. Chase had dented his car. Evil hero or no evil hero, there was payback to be had.

He made eye contact with the overlord, being certain to communicate every bit of his fury. "You. Dented. My. Car," he snarled, his fingers clenching into a fist before swinging wildly at the face of one very surprised Chase Young.

The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the koi pond and Chase was standing at the edge, a hit of a bruise already forming on his cheekbone. "Evil probation. One month. You will not so much as jaywalk." And with that, without even an explanation for evil probation, the warlock strode off into the night.

As he sat, still dazed and confused, in the pond, a round of applause went up from a group of people watching.

"Dude, that was awesome!" said Steve, rushing over as Jack hauled himself out of the pond.

"I never thought you would do that," Ashley said, helping him out of the pond, sounding more than a bit impressed with him.

"All in a day's work for the Jack Man," he said, staggering towards the house. He needed a ginger ale. Or a banana daiquiri. A month of vaguely described probation. Although given the looks he was getting, he might just be able to make it bearable.


	8. Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack joins Track. Unfortunate Antics Ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes from whenever I originally wrote this: Alrighty then. I was going to do something for Christmas, then I realized that my last two christmas specials covered all the bases and I could not think of one novel idea. So, I went back to Jack trying to be a semi-normal teenager and failing miserably. I've had a bit of an odd head canon for a while now that Jack could run fairly well if he had to, he's sure as heck had enough practice escaping the monks, so enjoy what he would so with it if he had to.

"Well Matt, it goes like this," he said. Matt had given him that, "Oh god you are so crazy," look again. Matt was the guy he'd initially thought was named Steve from his Halloween party. Matt had become his new friend and Jack was rather grateful for that as Chase took evil probation very seriously. He'd jaywalked once and he'd come home to tigers sitting in his basement. He had three weeks to go and he needed distractions or else he would go back to building killer robots and find his lab trashed. Hanging out with Matt and his friends was a good distraction. As was his current plan.

"I need extracurriculars before I apply to colleges. If I can get onto Varsity before I submit my application to MIT, I'll look like a better rounded student, and if I look like a better rounded student, then I have a better chance of getting into the school of my dreams," he finished.

"Yeah, but why am I here?" Matt asked, looking visibly uncomfortable in the gym full of Indoor Track people.

"Because I need a friend to do this with and your athletic fees are paid for the year," Jack replied. The brown haired boy gave an incredulous, borderline barking laugh.

"I played golf. Golf is not track," he said, indicating his displeasure with sweeping hand motions.

"If you're not gonna run, there's shot put," he said, although looking at the lanky boy, shot put might not have been the best option.

"Are you sure it's not too late to back out of this?"

"Yes." He'd actually had to pay the fees, he couldn't hack the databases this time, and he wasn't about to waste that money now. "Now, do you have any idea which events are worth doing?"

"Dude, you're no athlete. You're gonna get your ass handed to you," Matt said, rolling his eyes again. "Are you sure you don't have a better plan?"

"Would you rather do this or indoor lacrosse?"

"Let's see what we can find for events!"

Over the course of the afternoon, Jack managed to fail at hurdles, shot put, high jump, and long jump before he had a chance to do an actual running event. He knew he could run, he'd spent enough time running from the Xiaolin Losers, and he was eager to put his skills to good use. They were having 600M try outs next, this should be interesting.

He stepped into one of the lines, careful not to have to make small talk with the freshmen in front of him. The freshmen were annoying. He'd never been that annoying as a freshman. No, he'd kept to himself, plotting global domination in peace rather than attempting to pass off memes as jokes and annoying the seniors. And he'd never been that short.

What with his mental complaining about the freshmen, he never noticed the five boys in the lanes around him. By the time the people in front of him went, he realized that he was up against the varsity captain, last year's MVP, last year's high points award winner, and two other star athletes. It was only when their qualifier was about to run that he really realized that he had no idea was he was doing. They had three years of experience. Fuck.

"Ohgodohgodohgod," he murmured, attempting to copy their crouches on the start blocks. This was not going to end well. He was going to die of humiliation, at track practice, wearing gym shorts. And somehow, through his panic, he managed to register the sound of the starter's shot and everything became worse.

To his panicked mind, the shot sounded incredibly like Kimiko blowing up one of his Jackbots. Years of conditioning had taught him one thing: run like hell the other way if the bots start to blow up, because the monks are never far behind. And with that, he took off. He was sure he was only screamed a little. Or at least, that's what people would tell him later.

Things were actually going pretty well, given that he hadn't had to run from the monks in the last five weeks. He wasn't in first, but he wasn't in dead last either. However, as he came into the final stretch, he didn't realize that he failed to take into account the Laws of Murphy.

Matt was currently trying shot put. The weight of the ball meant that the scrawny boy had very little control over it. However, Jack also failed to take into account that his new friend was a good deal stronger than he looked in his initial assessment of his shot put prowess. He also failed to account for some genius deciding that shot put stuff would be done in the centre of the track.

With all that taken into account, the facts were these: Jackson Spicer was nearing the end of 600M try outs. Matthew Davis was attempting to throw a shot put. Mr. Davis was incapable of aiming the shot put if his life depended on it. And so, as he whirled and prayed that the shot would land in the proper place, there was no actual chance that it would. In fact, it went about forty degrees to the left of the target area, a safe corner by the wall of the gym with almost no danger of hitting anybody, and instead flew directly into the path of five oncoming athletes and one boy genius.

Twenty minutes later, Jack was being loaded into an ambulance, being told by a very apologetic Matt that, while his other events had been abysmal, the 600M time and the fact that the coaches felt very sorry for him for having his foot broken with a shot put on his first day, he had, in fact, made varsity. Jack on the other hand could only think of the irony of it all. Fighting the monks for domination of the world left him with nothing worse than some cuts, bruises, and burns, whereas one day of track practice had broken his foot.

Still, he had to see the light in the situation. This way he would have an excuse for not continuing with track when his probation was up, and maybe some sympathy points for when he planned out the Extreme Ironing event. And he could build a robot wheelchair. He'd always wanted a robot wheelchair.


	9. The Most In Demand Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack takes Team Heylin out for dinner. Unfortunate Antics Ensue.

It wasn’t as if Jack asked for much. He was a simple man with simple desires. He just wanted to take the Heylin side out for dinner after they won some Shen Gong Wu and take over the world. 

He didn’t think it was a lot to ask for. 

Evidently, it was. 

He’d booked one of the most in demand tables at one of the hottest restaurants in LA. He’d stolen his dad’s good credit card for this. He’d risked actual grounding for this. 

And the Geek Squad just had to go and ruin all of his carefully laid plans as Little Miss Moneybags had booked the _second_  most in demand table at one of the hottest restaurants in LA for the Loser Patrol. So, while he enjoyed the fried bananas with ginger, he had to stare at Chrome Dome. 

Of course, they wouldn’t even get past the appetizers before being escorted from the premises.

It all started when Ashley had to gloat. She looked up from her sushi and stared right at Hair Gel, pulled down her eyelid, and stuck out her tongue. Jack tried to ignore it. Years of being dragged the the country club had taught him how to behave at a proper dining establishment, even if most of the time he didn’t care enough to try. 

Tonight, he cared enough for the sake of both Evil and their famous lobster risotto. 

The Air Head retaliated by causing a freak draft to muss her hair. She got her revenge by distracting the waiter carrying what she thought was his appetizer for long enough to sprinkle cat hair on the truffle fries. She had no way of knowing that the monks had decided to split the fries. 

Cue Ball shrieked, but they otherwise ignored it. He doubted Rocks for Brains even noticed. And of course, that only made the situation worse as Team Heylin tried to get a reaction. 

Le Mime threw an imaginary pebble into Kimiko’s water. She rolled her eyes and asked for a refill. Wuya stole Raimundo’s napkin, then complained again about having to wear shoes. Ashley kept making faces at them. Shadow slipped some bugs onto their table He even wound up flicking bits of bread and butter at the monks when the wait staff wasn’t looking.  

Then Chase had to take it one stop too far. Even he’d learned not to mess with the cowboy’s food. Just as the monks’ food was coming out, the fifteen hundred year old warlord stuck out his foot like a goddamn Evil Amateur and tripped the server. A shaved steak sandwich went flying landed in a barbecue saucy mess at Clay’s feet. 

“Why is it always my sandwich?” Clay said, looking forlornly at his fallen sandwich before standing up and walking right over to Chase Young. “Now sir, I’m not proud of what I’m about to do, I was raised to have good manners, but y’all’ve been tormentin’ us this whole meal.”

Without another word on the subject, he upended Chase’s soup right into his lap. 

After that, everything was a blur of flying food, shouted insults, ancient magic, and kung fu moves he was at least ninety five percent sure were made up. The next thing he knew, he’d been hit in the face with mashed potatoes and was being escorted out by the bus boy. 

“Do you know who I am?” he said, fighting back against the asshole kicking him out. “I will have you fired.”

“And I’ll make you  _persona non grata,”_  the bus boy said, shutting the door in his face. The rest of Team Heylin came stalking out a few minutes later, muttering about unreasonable service. And he knew there was only one explanation for this. 

This was all the monks’ fault. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got a prompt the other day about Jack and the Monks getting dinner, one table over from each other. Gray Gusta.


End file.
